


study break

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: College AU, F/M, Tag, as per usual, cums and yums, ft felix fraldarius being an oblivious idiot, once again i populate the
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: Annette invites Felix over to her apartment. To study. Or something.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 15
Kudos: 106





	study break

**Author's Note:**

> oh? you think i'm a writer?
> 
> wrong. i am simply hrony and don't seem to have anything better to do with my life.

“Felix."

He picks his head up from his book, as though he was reading it all this time when he really hasn't. “Hm?” he asks, meeting her eyes.

Annette then swallows, eyes looking off to the side at the wall clock. “It’s, uh… getting kinda late now, don’t you think?”

He turns his head in the direction of her eyes. What time is it anyway?

8:30 pm. Christ.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he agrees, also noticing everyone else sitting around them has already cleared out.

But of course, who _would_ be spending a Friday night at Fódlan University’s 24/7 library anyway? Tryhards, lonely souls, creeps, and… well, Annette and him. He’s never the one studying though. Annette always has her face in a textbook while all he does is… well, what _does_ he do while she’s studying?

Well. He’s just there because… well, he’s there to support Annette, he guesses.

She’s one of the few people he can tolerate anyway — something he found out after being paired together as part of a group project for that mandatory introductory seminar all freshman had to take. Everyone else in the group besides Annette was annoying as fuck, so Felix never bothered to even remember their names, let alone sit on the same side of the table as them. Eventually it got to a point where he refused to work around the same table as them, with Annette graciously breaking from the rest of the group to join Felix and act as the mediating thread between Felix and the rest.

That became routine. The group met on Tuesday afternoons after class to work on their project. Felix took seat on the opposite side of the library, and Annette would eventually join him after checking in with the rest of the group. They’d would work on whatever components of the project they needed to — just the two of them.

But then even after the conclusion of the project and the disbanding of the group, Felix finds himself still sitting at this very table.

Perhaps more significantly, he finds himself still sitting _with Annette_.

Felix doesn’t really know why this is nor does he really want to know why. He presumes it has something to do with how he likes consistency and how he likes having claim to a spot. Just maybe it also has something to do with how Annette hums to herself when she’s in deep thought or with how the day passes by so much faster around her than if he was just home by himself playing video games.

Now, it isn’t just Tuesdays he’s here with her — it’s basically all the other days of the week.

As for Annette? Well, Annette seems to also have found her study spot as well, sharing the same table they had always used for that group project long past. She even still sits in that very same chair around the corner closest to him, not even opting for any of the other multiple spots around the long table.

Perhaps more significantly, somehow, she’s still sitting _with him_.

And again, Felix doesn’t really know why this is nor does he really want to know why. He presumes it has something to do with how late she often stays to get through yet another chapter in her textbook or how she can command him to wake her up if she inevitably falls asleep over her notes — which he never does anyway.

Whatever it is, he certainly doesn’t mind. He rather likes her, and Annette is quite cute when she’s in the zone — the way her eyebrows scrunch together so tight the freckles on her forehead knit closer together, and the way she taps her lower lip with the end of her pen, every now and then knocking her bottom teeth and grimacing. And well, that’s just a matter of fact. She’s objectively cute. Anyone could say that.

Literally anyone. Even him.

Annette’s also cute when she’s _not_ in the zone — something Felix is realizing more now.

Her eyes unfocused, she sits back into her chair, staring back over the textbook in front of her.

“You finished up?” he asks. A quick glance at her half-page of notes, the ink pen she keeps perched in her hand, and the scatter of highlighters and colored pens tells him she’s nowhere near done, but then again, when is Annette ever _not_ studying? Or at least… that’s all he ever seemed to see her doing. And provided he spent _quite_ a bit of time with her on a day-to-day basis, that is a _lot_ of time studying.

Picking herself out of her trance, she sits up straight, a pink flush decorating the tops of her cheeks. “Uh, yes!” she quickly answers, but then immediately corrects, “I-I mean, no! Not really. I mean, I was just thinking it’s getting late so maybe… we can go somewhere else?” she suggests. “Maybe… my apartment?”

His ears perk up. Her apartment? He’s never been to her apartment before — in fact, before she mentioned her apartment, he hadn’t even realized she _didn_ _’t_ live in one of the campus dormitories.

“Your apartment?”

For some reason, him repeating the words catch her off guard. “Y-Yeah! My apartment!”

It doesn’t take him long to make a decision. She’s inviting him over, and what the hell did he have else to do anyway?

“Yeah, sure,” he agrees, subsequently shutting his book.

“Oh, okay!” she says quickly, seeing him clean up. “W-We can hang out there then!”

“Is it far?” He takes his book by the spine and tosses it into his otherwise empty backpack.

“Ah, no! Just down the street a few blocks,” she replies. “We can walk!” Taking his lead, she stands up abruptly, her chair scooting out from behind her. She shoves her textbook, her notebook, her agenda book, her pens, her highlighters, all of it into her backpack — rather haphazardly, actually.

Felix finds this rather uncharacteristic of her, but his thoughts are quickly interrupted when she looks back up at him with bright blue eyes.

“Alright, let’s go!” she chirps.

..

The night air is crisp — early November is true to its temperature this year. Felix shivers a little as his body adjusts, adjusting and stuffing his hands into his pockets. Annette’s hands are tucked into her sleeves, arms hugging one of her textbooks to her chest — the big one that doesn’t fit into her backpack.

Felix watches the cloud of her exhale dissipate, then turns to her, outstretching a hand.

“Give me your book,” he demands.

She clutches it tighter. “Oh no, it’s alright!” she insists.

“You’re carrying a lot,” he replies, gesturing to her over-stuffed backpack. And before she refuses again, he reaches over and plucks the book from her arms.

“H-Hey!” she exclaims, her hand trying to take back her textbook. “Give it back, meanie!”

He cracks a smile, raising the book above his head. It doesn’t take much to keep it well out of her reach. She tiptoes as high as she can, but the tips of her fingers only brush his wrist. She clutches his sleeve, leaning into his body to keep herself steady while she’s on the balls of her feet. He looks down at her, letting out a laugh that softens as her face nears him. She seems to realize she’s in his space too, and then she presses her lips together and then quickly retreats leaving him with her textbook.

“Thanks,” she finally musters quietly, looking away.

He cradles the book in his arm. It’s a cinderblock.

“You should stop lugging all this stuff around,” he mumbles. “I don’t know why you keep your entire life on your back.”

“It’s not my _entire life_ , Felix. It’s only the things I need for the day!”

He frowns, reading off the cover of the textbook. “Molecular Biology of the Cell? You’ve been carrying this around since last semester.”

“Well, _yeah,_ it’s a hard class so I was getting ahead in the reading material.”

He scoffs. “Surprised you didn’t already read this five times through already,” he says.

“Hey, it’s a _lot_ to get through,” she retorts.

“I’m just saying you’re always studying,” he clarifies. He pauses for a moment and adds, “You should give yourself a break.”

“I’m not _always_ studying,” she retorts. “And in fact, I was already _planning_ to not study this weekend.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? You got fun plans instead?”

“Mm… yeah! Lots of fun plans!”

“Liar,” he retorts. He peeks a look at her from the corner of his eyes, grinning upon seeing her pout. “You’re an easy tell,” he says.

Her frown deepens and she turns her head away, but not before long, her face softens. She peers over at him. “So, uh, what about you?” she asks him hesitantly. “Do _you_ have any plans for the weekend?”

Felix thinks for a moment. The only thing that he _might_ have to do this weekend is whatever nonsense Sylvain might drag him into.

“No, not really,” he replies.

“Ah,” Annette says distantly, looking back ahead of them.

Noting the awkward silence, he turns to her. “Why?”

Startled, she takes a quick breath. “Oh!” she laughs. “Oh, _nothing_. I was just curious.” She stammers a little. “I mean, I was wondering… if you have time, maybe we can… go do something this weekend?”

“You mean hang out?”

“Y-Yeah!” she says, vigorously nodding. “We can go somewhere! Get lunch. Or dinner…”

Felix just looks at her. She flits her eyes away from him.

“What?” she accuses.

He cracks a smile. “No studying?”

“ _Definitely_ no studying,” she says. “I promise.”

“Then yeah,” he agrees. “Let’s go do something.”

“Okay!” Annette replies.

She doesn’t say it, but he can tell she’s hiding a smile behind her scarf.

She’s happy about doing something other than studying, he guesses.

Well, he had plenty to be happy about as well. If he’s out with Annette, he definitely had a built-in excuse to not oblige Sylvain.

After a few more blocks, Annette gestures to the left. “This is it,” she announces.

Felix looks over, seeing the duplex building she’s pointing to. He follows her up the stairs, stopping as she unlocks the front door and stepping in behind her once the first door is open. Once inside, she leads him up another set of stairs until they reach the top landing, where she stops in front of her unit and turns the two sets of locks. She turns the doorknob as it clicks open, giving him a small smile before she pushes the door open.

“Uh, welcome, I guess,” Annette tells him, bending down to quickly sweep some shoes closer to the side of the hall. “It’s a little messy. Sorry.” She leads him to a table between her couch and her kitchen. “We can use this table,” she says, scooping up the napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers from the center. “I just have to make a little bit of space.” She looks back at him, laughing nervously. “Do you want any water?” she offers. “Or maybe I can make some tea?”

“That’s alright. I’m good,” he says, setting her textbook down onto the table and slipping his backpack off his shoulders. He pulls out a chair, sitting down and takes a quick glance around.

Annette’s apartment is as neat and orderly as he expected it to be. He thinks he expected more cutesy and decorative things, but all she really has outside of the essentials is a small bookcase stacked with numerous books, some carved wooden figurines on top of that. 

She watches him look around her apartment for a little bit. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can get you,” she tells him.

She then pulls out her books and things, spreading them out in front of her table. He attempts to redirect his attention back to studying himself, but flipping his own book back to whatever page he had been on in the library. (It’s the same page as the one that he had opened to at the beginning of the day.) He’s never really been able to focus — and honestly never has had much to focus for — so he’s always ended up discreetly watching Annette study.

Now is no exception. His eyes keep straying to the freckles on her cheeks, flitting back to the text of his book whenever it feels like he’s going to be caught.

After a few minutes, she fidgets a little, stretching both arms up. She looks over at him, and when he meets her eyes, she gives him a small nervous smile. “Uh, actually if you don’t mind I think I’m going to try to go take a shower,” she tells him. “I feel like that would be really… refreshing.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. That’s fine.” He instinctively directs his attention back to his book, as if that’s where his eyes have been all along.

In the corner of his eyes, he sees her get up slowly. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, okay?” she says, pushing in her chair. And before she steps completely away, she adds, “Also, I… uh, the shower door…” she starts but then stops. He looks up at her, waiting patiently for her to end the sentence. “The shower door is… _broken_ ,” she blurts. “Yeah. Broken. It doesn’t… _close_.” She meets his eyes briefly, but then immediately looks away.

“Sure,” he says, noticing the blush over her cheeks. She must be ultra embarrassed about this.

That makes sense. He imagines disclosing about anything broken or dysfunctional in their own home isn’t something people willingly do.

“I-I just wanted to let you know!” she squeaks. “It’s broken, so don’t come in!”

Although, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t really know why she needs to mention the door at all. After all, it isn’t like he’s going to just walk into the bathroom while she’s taking a shower, right? That isn’t a normal thing that people do…

Or maybe she’s mentioning it because she wanted a solution?

He blinks. “Do you want me to take a look at it? Maybe fix it or something?”

“Oh! No! It’s alright!” she replies hurriedly. “I just wanted to let you know about it. That’s all!”

And before he responds, she hustles off to the hallway, turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

Felix frowns, looking concernedly in her direction. Kinda sucks her door doesn’t close. At least she doesn’t have any roommates to deal with — he can imagine that would cause a lot of inopportune moments.

He hears a door open and a skitter of bare feet across the hall, then sees Annette’s head pop around the corner. She has her orange shoulder-length hair down and… judging by the bare left shoulder that comes into view, she is naked — save a towel around her body.

Briefly, he wonders if she has freckles on her shoulders.

“Uh, okay, I’m going to take a shower now,” she announces. “Don’t come in!” she repeats again.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” he promises.

…Is that a _shake_ in his _own_ voice? Is he nervous?

He decides not to think too hard on it, letting his eyes track mindlessly back to the text in front of him, propping his head between his two hands. He quickly finds it hard to concentrate, even _more_ than before.

The sound of the curtain being pushed aside, metal rings sliding along the metal pole, is unmistakable. He can hear so clearly that he can practically envision her small hand moving the curtain away, her left foot stepping into the tub, followed by the rest of her body. He hears the squeak of the faucets, the instant roar of water afterwards. Then after a long few seconds, when the water heats up to just the right temperature, there’s a brief pause in the flow — then running water.

He wonders how hot she likes the water.

Felix blinks, snapping out of his thought. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, then suddenly realizing his pants are a little tight.

Jesus, when did _that_ happen? Well, _yes_ , there is a naked girl in the shower within very clear hearing range of him — but come _on_. He needs to calm the fuck down. It’s _just_ the shower. She’s _just_ taking a shower. She’s _just_ —

— standing in the shower, combing her hands through her hair as she tilts her head back to soak it, the steam from the shower rising up from the water that runs down her —

He blinks again. This is terrible. Well, _yes_ , Annette’s cute, but getting off on listening to her take a shower?

That’s just wrong. And also certainly not what he expected to be doing on a Friday night.

He holds his head tighter, pressing his palms harder into his temples. He stares so hard at the text in front of him, he’s surprised his glare hasn’t already made the text catch fire.

And Felix does quite well, simply staring at the page for the next fifteen minutes — but suddenly, above the sound of the running water, he hears the undeniable sound of a melody.

Wait…. is she… _singing_?

Fuck. He exhales sharply through his teeth, closing his eyes. He really isn’t going to be able to focus now.

As always, her voice sounds pleasantly charming as ever, if not even better with all the natural reverberation off the shower walls.

Annette has _such_ a lovely voice, too. Time and again, he’s always stricken by how good it sounds for someone who doesn’t sing professionally.

Hearing it now… and _so tantalizingly close_ … it makes him want to _actually_ go into the bathroom to listen to her sing, inching closer and closer to her song… He loves her singing so much that he has the strangest urge to collapse the distance between her music and him, and _fuck it all_ , he just wants to get into the shower with her and push her against the wall and just eat her voice off her lips —

Fuck, is he _sweating_?

Felix feels hot all over. His palms are a little moist, his teeth a little clenched, his pants now way too uncomfortable.

He looks over at the wall clock across the room. 9:40 pm.

It’s late. Why is he here? Why is he here in _her_ apartment while she’s taking a _shower_? He should just go home. He has nothing else to do, Annette should stop studying anyway, and his… _condition_ isn’t going to get any better the longer he stays here.

He sniffs, suddenly smelling a light aroma. Citrus — some grapefruit or perhaps lemon — probably whatever soap she’s using.

He checks the time again. 9:41 pm.

God, she’s taking an _awful long time_ in the shower, isn’t she? When did she get in there? That felt like _ages_ ago.

The citrus smell gets stronger. Maybe she’s just making sure she’s extra clean, he thinks to himself. She’s just making sure the suds cover every inch of her and running the warm water over her so that no soap is left on her skin, especially not the back of her shoulder where the water doesn’t hit. She rinses the shampoo from her hair, then turns around and opens her eyes, voice hiccuping in the middle of song when she realizes he’s there behind her. She gasps and he gathers her in his arms, ducking his head down to kiss her cheeks, then her shoulders — see if there’s _actually freckles_ on them — before he captures her lips, giving her only a moment to breathe and blurt his name —

Ah, fuck, he thinks to himself, shifting again in his seat. There is no denying it at this point. He _definitely_ is hard, he _definitely_ is horny, and he _definitely_ needs to take care of this at once as soon as he gets home.

At least he has a lot of… _source material_ for the night.

He holds his breath, closing his eyes, but completely unable to the sound of her voice.

God. She’s taking an _awful long time_ in the shower, huh?

Something clatters — from the sound of it, a shampoo bottle or something.

“Oh!” she yelps.

Startled and caught off guard, Felix stands to his feet, his chair nearly knocking over behind him.

Wait, what the hell is he thinking? What the hell is he _doing_? It’s not like he’s going to actually _go over there_ and help her.

He sits himself back down into the chair, folding his arms across his chest and crossing one leg over the other, as if holding himself down. He is _not_ going over there — that would be inappropriate and disrespectful because she’s showering and her door isn’t closed and she’s naked and he can’t get those two thoughts out of his head but _what if_ she _actually_ needed some help because the shampoo bottle is out of reach and just before she’s forced to push away the shower curtains to step out of the tub, he appears around the corner and grabs the bottle for her. Maybe he hands it over, apologizing that he came over even though she specifically told him _not_ to, and maybe she blushes and thanks him for helping her out with the shampoo, and maybe as he hands the shampoo over to her, she hesitates for just a moment… before taking him by the wrist and dragging him into the shower with her, and maybe he kisses her and — 

Well. He should _definitely not_ do that.

It is _so hot_.

He pulls off his sweater, fanning himself with the cover of the textbook. Fuck — he _has_ to get out of here. He checks the time again: 10:24.

She’s been in the shower for at least a half hour. And he isn’t sure how much longer she’s going to be in there…

He should get going. The rest of the night isn’t going to be any better.

But he can’t just _leave_ while she’s in the shower, right? Just tell her that he has to get going and get out there? That’s a little rude, right?

Maybe he should just yell that he’s leaving? Would she even hear her though?

He rises slowly, looking down at himself and fixing his shirt. “Hey, um, Annette?” he croaks.

But he doesn’t think she can hear him over the shower… or her singing.

Maybe… he needs to get closer? Yell louder?

Gingerly, he steps over to the hallway, the sound of the shower and her singing growing louder and growing more near. As he approaches the corner, he presses his back to the wall, feeling his heart pound hard in his chest. Her bathroom is at the end of the hall… Does he even dare to look around the corner?

Felix holds his breath, then peeks around, making sure to keep his eyes on the floor and — shit, the bathroom door is wide open! He steps back. She didn’t even bother to close it all! At least the shower curtain is obscure, a solid light blue curtain that blocked the sight of any shadows or shapes to lend for imagination.

Fuck. Alright. He _has_ to get out of here. _Now_.

He swallows, then opens his mouth to announce his leave — but just before he calls out, he hears her singing stop and the squeak of the faucet and the abrupt end to the water flow.

He does the next thing he can think to do — scurry back to the table. He sits down, quickly taking his sweater and putting it over his lap, pulling his chair in. He lasers his eyes onto the text, re-reading the same sentence over and over again, holding his head between his hands.

He hears soft footsteps out from the bathroom, then the soft shut of the bedroom door. Briefly, he glances in the direction of the bedroom door, readjusting his seat. It’s fine, it’s fine, he thinks. He’s going to wait until she gets back to the table, and he’s going to tell her he’s going, and that is that.

She doesn’t take even a fraction as long as getting dressed as she did taking a shower. When he hears her open the bedroom door, he quickly directs his attention back to the same line in the textbook, not daring to look up at her until she sits down and settles down. The smell of her shampoo and soap is fresh, now wafting even more strongly over his nose.

He looks up at her. “Hey, Annette, I’m—” he starts, but cuts himself off when he sees her face.

Annette isn’t quite frowning, but there’s something in her expression that he can’t put a finger on.

“Is… something wrong?”

“No, no,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He swallows. Maybe… Maybe she knows that he looked? “D-Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she says curtly, her tone taking on a very different vibrato than from earlier that night. “You… you didn’t do anything… wrong,” she adds, but the beat of the last word is off.

He takes a quick breath. “So—”

“You didn’t join me in the shower,” she quickly blurts, eyes averted.

His heart drops into his stomach. What—

She looks up at him then, locking eyes with him.

He stares at her for a moment.

Then, everything clicks.

He rushes forward, taking her face in his hands and pulling her lips against his.

She takes him with great gusto, moaning and leaning further into him. She gets up from her chair, half-tripping over her chair leg and half-bumping into the corner of the table as she makes her way onto his lap. He feels her delicious weight on his thighs, so _so_ close to the bulge of his pants. He knew he wanted her — but only now with her face in his hands and her body atop him does he realize just _how much_ he desired.

He kisses her. Breathlessly. Over and over again, until his chest hurts and he needs to pause to let his heart catch up to his excitement.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks.

“I _was_ trying to tell you,” she replies. “I was dropping so many hints! I… I invited you back to my apartment!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you wanted to —” then he cuts off mid-sentence, finding himself unable to say the words directly as his cheeks start to flush. He tries again. “You could have been a lot more clear.”

“More clear, like how?” she challenges him. “I’m telling you _now._ ” She leans in, her breath tickling his nose and her lips grazing the shell of his right ear. And she says, voice velvet and soft, “ _Fuck_ me, Felix.”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

He lifts her by the back of her thighs, sitting her at the edge of the table and knocking every fucking thing off the damn table before he falls over her, trapping her between his forearms and his body weight. He ducks his head into the crook of her neck, sucking gently at the soft skin while grinding against her. She gasps when his teeth graze her, and he feels her legs wrap around his weight, holding him close. She still smells like her soap and shampoo, her hair still half-damp.

“Why’d you even bother to put on clothes again?” he half-snarls. He tucks his fingers under the waistband of her sweatpants, snapping it.

“W-Well, I wasn’t sure! I just thought… maybe you just weren’t… interested!”

“You could not have been more wrong,” he says. “And you took _so fucking long_ in that shower.”

“I was _waiting_ for you!”

“So was I.”

“I didn’t know!”

“Well, you do now.” He gives her a once-over. “Take off your shirt,” he demands, working from his end to pull her pants away.

She does, and he immediately sees that she, indeed, _does_ have freckles on her shoulder. As if magnetized, his lips drop to her shoulder, pecking a kiss onto each dot. While he does this, he unhooks her bra, then pulling it off her and tossing it to some corner. He leans forward once more, taking her right breast into his mouth. Her eyes fall closed as she arches her chest up to him.

“Oh… Felix…. _yes_ ,” she moans.

He transfers to the other side, in the meantime, letting his fingers run down her body until he reaches between her thighs. He palms her first, feeling her wet and hot at his fingertips. She croons a little louder, on a more continuous note, and he lets one, then two fingers into her. They slide in easy and comfortable, and not before long, she starts to rock against his wrist in the same rhythm. She looks at him with dazed eyes, nodding and muttering ‘yes yes yes’ under her breath.

Her hands reach for his face. “Come here, Felix,” she says softly. “Let me kiss you.”

He obliges, continuing to grind his hand against her. She swallows his lips, then pulls away as she moans, hot breath over his face. He takes the moment to pull his hand away from her, but she makes a disapproving sound, then takes his hand by the wrist and lifts it up to her mouth, sucking hard on his fingers.

“Fuck. _Annette_ ,” he groans, looking over her body briefly before falling to his knees and putting his face between her legs. He loops his arms under her knees, letting her feet rest on his shoulders as he keeps his hands over her hips to keep her in place. He runs the flat of his tongue against her and holding pressure when he feels her shudder.

“Ah, Felix,” she whimpers, her heels pushing down on him. Her voice climbs octaves until a brief pause and she comes, her fists clenched and her elbows knocking into the surface of the table. With this brief interlude, he pauses for just a moment, then unrelentingly continues to eat her out. Her thighs cave in, crushing his head softly, and she laughs, “Wait, Felix! I can’t— Too much! Stop! I’m still coming!”

She kicks him away, rolling to the side to ride out the rest of her orgasm. He smiles, finally standing back up and waiting for her to recover. She sighs, catching her breath as her body relaxes again, locking eyes with him and then sitting up and pulling him in a brief kiss.

“That took no time,” he says.

She giggles, draping her arms over his shoulders. “Well, I mean… I did most of the work already,” she replies. “Earlier in the shower.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought you were just singing the entire time.”

“Huh?” She blinks, confused momentarily before she figures it out. “Oh, no! Felix! No! That’s not what I meant! Oh, my god! No, I just meant that I was… getting into the mood! Not… _actually_ masturbating or anything. That would have been…” and she stops herself as she looks away, “…that would have been more obvious.”

Grinning, he leans in, tilting his head to try to catch her eyes. “ _Have_ you masturbated thinking about me?”

The flush over her cheeks deepens, and she holds her words back, biting down on her bottom lip. She shakes her head. “I’m not telling you.”

Damn. How long has she had these feelings? The whole academic year? No, it couldn’t be.

Well… maybe this _would_ explain all this time they’ve spent together… and all those times he’d catch her looking at him… and all the times she would casually touch him… and all the many things that suddenly seem to line up… and _damn,_ for all those times before when _he_ wanted to stop “studying” and knock everything off the table and just…

“How…” he stops himself, but decides to go through with the rest of his question. “How long have you wanted this?”

Her lips part, as if to answer, but then she simply smiles, looking at him. “I don’t know,” she says, her eyes dropping to his mouth. “Long enough. I just decided to be… courageous today.”

She _has_ been quite forward today, he agrees.

He thinks he rather likes it.

“Annette,” he suddenly confesses. “You know, I—”

“Shh, Felix…” she interrupts, putting her finger over his lips. “Less talk. More action.” Her other hand drops down his body, tracing the hard silhouette of his cock.

It does an incredible job of distracting him.

“What do you want to do?” he asks, after a short moan. “Remember that you’re going to have to make it _very_ clear.”

She giggles, removing her hand and draping her arms around his neck. She pulls him in to cradle his head, her lips once again whispering in his ear. “Take me to bed,” she says. “I want to ride you.”

He can’t say no to that. Without another word, she hops off the table, taking his hand. There’s something strangely comforting and incredibly adorable about being led across the room by a completely naked girl, and he can feel the idiotic smile on his face. She opens her bedroom door, pulling him in and then before he even has a good look around her room, she pushes him into her bed.

Her bed smells lovely — clean, fresh, and like Annette. He whips off his shirt, lifts his hips up to get his pants off, and even before the clothing makes it past his feet, Annette crawls over him, bending her neck down and kissing him. She straddles his waist, sitting squarely over the lower half of his abdomen, where he can feel her wet against him.

She wastes no time. Once through with kissing him, she steadies herself, placing one hand on his chest, the other guiding his cock. She sits, groaning loudly, her eyes locked on his as she takes him in.

“Fuck, _Annette_ ,” he moans.

She adjusts her position a touch before moving, crooning his name the first few times she rocks back and forth. His name turns into grunts and open-mouthed sighs as her speed quickens, both her hands on his chest. God, it is _so hot_ to see her on top of him, fully enjoying herself. Mesmerized by the way the curls of her hair bounce on her shoulders and the shape of her mouth and the flutter in her eyelids, he runs his fingers up her body. His hands follow her curves, stopping at the waist and holding her, feeling her speed slow down as she tires. When the time is right, he digs his heels into the bed and lifts his hips, bucking into her, and she gasps, falling over him.

He embraces her tight, holding her against him as he fucks her.

“Oh, Felix… Yes!” she pants, her voice right at his ear. “Felix… Felix…” She repeats his name like a mantra, the syllables slurring together.

God, he _loves_ hearing her sing his name like that. To hear her _this_ desperate and _this_ satisfied… _fuck._

“I’m going to come, Annette,” he tells her.

“Mm, good,” she moans, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. “Come for me, Felix.”

Doesn’t take him much more than her encouragement to finally release.

“Fuck!” he blurts, feeling his orgasm. It comes strong and quick, and he thinks it’s the best he’s had in a very long time. Probably has something to do with just _how long_ he had been waiting. He calms down, letting his chest catch up to his breath, and she sits up, his cock still inside her. She wipes the glean of sweat off his brow, kissing his forehead softly.

“Good?” she asks.

He nods. “Incredible,” he sighs.

Seeming very pleased with that answer, she smiles, pecking another kiss onto his lips before she lifts up from him, lying aside him.

“I guess now I’m all dirty again,” she giggles.

A thought suddenly strikes him. “Your shower door isn’t actually broken, is it?”

She snorts. “What? Did you really _just_ figure that out?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Until about an hour ago, I didn’t even realize you wanted to fuck me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you actually thought I wanted us to _study_ so late on a Friday night?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters, looking away. “You’re a good student, so…”

She laughs, turning his head toward him. She lowers her eyes at him. “Good student by day, naughty girl by night,” she tells him, but after a beat, she immediately groans. “That was lame.”

He chuckles, pulling her in for a kiss. “Naughty girl, indeed.”

She giggles again, lifting from the bed. “Well, I’m going for a shower,” she announces, getting out of bed and standing to her feet. “And I’ll be _clear_ this time. _Join me._ ” She takes his wrist, tugging on the limb. He stays put, unmoving.

“Mm, I don’t know,” he teases. “I don’t think I can go for another round.” Despite saying this, he feels a surge of energy coming out of nowhere. “And you take really long showers… I don’t know if I can last.”

But Annette is determined. She tugs a little harder, enough to pull him out of bed.

“Hm,” she says, glancing again at his cock. “We’ll see about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> and so they fuck all weekend. 
> 
> the end.
> 
> (find me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/napsbeforesleep))


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